


Just a Little Reframing

by Wicked42



Series: Gwenvid Week 2018 [6]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Camp Activity, F/M, General Angst, Implied Child Abuse, Max Comes Back, implied child neglect, kids go home, mandatory reporters, perfect nuclear family, post-camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 18:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked42/pseuds/Wicked42
Summary: Gwen loves the solitary time after the kids leave Camp Campbell. Right up until one kid comes back, alone.Entry #6 of Gwenvid Week!Prompt: Camp Activity





	Just a Little Reframing

Gwen’s favorite Camp Campbell activity didn’t even involve the kids.

No, her favorite activity happened in the days after they left, when the summer heat cooled and the bus’s tire tracks faded from the dirt road and the emptiness of the tents, the stage, the mess hall, echoed with silence and wind.

The first year she was a counselor, it was morose. Creepy, almost. Like poking around a school late at night. There was something sacrilegious about walking through a property that used to bustle with children. That first year, she wouldn’t go anywhere without David, would make up excuses to participate in _his_ wrap-up activities, not her own, as if venturing into the empty mess hall might summon the Boogey Monsters of Old.

David figured it out. He laughed and drew her into a hug and told her, sheepishly, that he used to be convinced the Camp was haunted. That sometimes he heard his old friend, Jasper, whispering through the trees.

Which was weird, because Jasper had gone home even earlier than David had, a decade ago.

But all it took for him, David said, was a quick reframing of the mind. It was comforting to think that Jasper was whispering, not the leaves or the wind, because he _knew_ Jasper, knew that his old friend would watch his back.

Suddenly, the shadows that stretched over the benches before the vacant stage weren’t spindly fingers reaching for him. They were just the trees’ way of saying goodnight. The nefarious creaking of the half-pipe, or the Magic tower, or the illusionist’s stand, became a soft whistle of happiness at another successful summer. The ominous “whooooo”ing sound from the broken shutters in the counselor’s cabin was just the camp saying, “Wh-ee’ll see you next year!”

It was adorable and so fucking _David_ that Gwen had to laugh at how stupid she’d been.

But it _did_ help.

After that, Gwen began to appreciate the solitude of Camp Campbell’s post-summer ritual. The Quartermaster left with the bus of kids, and he rarely returned after that. If he did, it was just to duck into the QM store and resurface with a box labeled “toys,” and vanish again into the night.

Which meant that after Camp Campbell closed for the year, it was just Gwen and David, together, alone.

And that was kind of lovely on its own.

Of course, _this_ year wasn’t like that.

This year, just as Gwen and David were settling on the log before the firepit, as the soft light of a baby flame flickered and David tossed a thick wool blanket over Gwen’s shoulders, as she handed him a cup of hot cocoa and adjusted the grip on her own, as they both simultaneously released a sigh at another summer gone, the bus crunched back into Camp.

At first, David didn’t move. He tilted his head towards the mess hall, squinting past the darkness of night, despite the glow of the stars overhead.

“Quartermaster?” Gwen said, drily. Even for a Fifty Shades connoisseur, the QM’s “toys” were a bit much. Far as she was concerned, he could take those to the moon and it wouldn’t be far enough from her.

David frowned. “Probably,” but as the bus’s engine sputtered to silence and the doors creaked open, her co-counselor sighed and set his steaming mug in the grass. “I’ll just go check. In case he needs anything else.”

“Suit yourself. I’m not going near _that_ with a ten-foot pole.” Gwen took a long swig of her cocoa, shooting David a pointed stare.

He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush colored his cheeks, but he strolled up the path, back towards the dark mess hall and their empty cabin.

The next seconds ticked by in pleasant silence, while Gwen appreciated the crackle of the firepit, the soft trill of crickets and cicadas, the embers floating to the stars. Her hot cocoa tasted homemade, even though she knew it was just a cheap powder packet and water. But there was something about nature that made even plain things seem extraordinary.

Which was probably why Gwen would never, _ever_ forget the dissonant look on Max’s face as David escorted him down the path.

She leapt to her feet, her mug slipping from her hands. Cheap hot cocoa soaked into the grass as she fumbled for something to say. Fumbled to address the deadened look in Max’s dull green eyes, the angry set of David’s lips, the jarring truth that _the kids should all be home by now_.

But Max wasn’t.

And it was no goddamn secret why.

“Those fucking _bastards_ ,” she hissed.

Max shoved his hands into his hoodie’s pocket, hunching his shoulders under David’s firm grip. “You’re telling me.”

But his voice was dazed, disconnected. She’d wondered how Parents Day had dissolved so fast, gone from, “They don’t care about shit like this,” to “They don’t care.” Period. And while his enrollment form was fairly damning, it was nothing compared to _abandoning_ their kid at a fucking camp.

“It’s okay,” David said, forcing a smile even as Gwen saw red. She tried to keep her expression controlled, keep her hands from shaking, as he continued, ever the optimist. “They probably just got the dates confused. I bet they’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Jesus Christ, David. Open your fucking eyes,” Max muttered, slumping onto the log beside Gwen. She didn’t even try to smile, still simmering as she tossed the blanket over his shoulders. Her gut coiled further as his little hands gripped it, tight enough his knuckles darkened. Like it was that goddamn teddy bear. Like it still wouldn’t give him the comfort he craved.

She tugged him into her side, fitting his shoulders under the crook of her arm.

The fact that he leaned against her spoke volumes.

David sighed, perching beside Max. His mug of hot cocoa was still sitting in the grass, miraculously undisturbed, and he tentatively picked it up, tentatively handed it over. “You, ah… you want some cocoa? Good for the soul.”

“I don’t want your backwash, you asshole,” Max said, without venom.

“I didn’t drink any,” David replied, using that calm, pleasant tone he did whenever Max was being impossible… impossibly vulnerable. “It’s all yours, buddy.”

Max’s eyes flicked to it, still steaming, and his fingers loosened on the wool blanket to take it from David. He took a sip, staring numbly at the fire. But even from her position above him, the sudden shine in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“I should have known,” he mumbled, like all the fight had slipped from his body, leaving him sad and limp. “Shoulda known this was some kind of fucked up Ponzi Scheme. I bet they’re already living it up in Mexico.”

David flinched. “No, Max. They’re home. They miss you. They just… forgot the day.”

“David,” Gwen said, softly.

His shoulders slumped. When he spoke again, it was with heart-aching bemusement. “I’m real sorry, Max. I just don’t understand it. You’re the coolest kid. How could they—” David cut himself off, like saying what they’d done out loud would somehow validate the actions.

Or rather, inaction.

Gwen wasn’t so kind. “It’s because they’re assholes. And you’re better than them, Max. Listen to me, you little shit,” she waited until he blinked away the tears, waited until he glared up at her, before she snapped, “this will not break you. You understand? Your parents may not give a fuck, but _we_ do. Got that?”

Max scoffed, turning his gaze back to the cocoa. “Yeah. _That’s_ gonna make a goddamn difference next time they forget to feed me.”

David went white, and fury flared in Gwen’s chest yet again. She had to remind herself, _forcefully_ remind herself, that Max wasn’t the enemy here. That it wasn’t fair to shout about his parents near him, no matter how much he agreed with her. Kids got scared when adults yelled. Much as Max tried to hide it, he was no exception.

So she drew a few breaths through her nose. And when she spoke, her tone was even and calm, with just the barest hint of rage roiling underneath. “Max. I’m not joking. You see what’s happening right now? Your parents fucked up, but we’re still here. And if you need us, we’ll _always_ be there. Even if it’s just to make you some of the Quartermaster’s shitty mashed potatoes.”

Tears rolled down Max’s cheeks now, and he wiped them angrily, lips set in a stubborn line. “I don’t need your goddamn charity, Gwen.”

“Max, this isn’t charity,” David finally spoke up, his fingers digging into the soft wood log. “This is your life we’re talking about. If your parents don’t feed you, that’s neglect.”

Gwen had been so furious, she hadn’t even thought about that. About the legal ramifications of starving a child, even inadvertently. About how complicated this made things, because even if she and David drove Max home tomorrow, they couldn’t in good faith _leave_ him there.

A sinking feeling overturned in her stomach, like tipping over the top of a roller coaster. The point of no return, the knowledge that she was along for the ride, even if the car flew off the rails halfway down.

It was terrifying.

“Funny, because I seem to remember a little episode where you fed us shoes and _grass clippings_ ,” Max snapped. “Your fucking camp isn’t much better, _David_.”

But David’s stern expression never wavered.

And eventually, Max pressed the rim of the #1 Counselor mug to his lips and mumbled against the ceramic, “It doesn’t matter. Summer’s over. Not like there’s anywhere else for me to go.”

David glanced at Gwen over Max’s poofy hair. She still had her arm around the kid’s shoulders, holding the blanket in place. The fire was crackling merrily, the stars twinkling overhead, and it was one of those rare moments where the counselors managed a telepathic conversation.

And it basically boiled down to _fuck no, those assholes don’t fucking deserve him._

Well, that was Gwen’s takeaway. David’s was probably closer to _golly gee whizickers, those folks sure are mean, and I don’t think Max likes it there. We should do something about that!_

Regardless of how it was thought, the end result was the same.

Because, in all honesty, they didn’t have a choice. Now that Max had told them about the abuse, as camp counselors, they were required to report it. And this was one instance where they couldn’t call the cops fast enough.

David plucked out his cell. “Ah, excuse me.” He strolled back towards the mess hall, phone to his ear. The last thing Gwen heard was, “—non-emergency. Yes, I’ll hold,” before his conversation became unintelligible.

Gwen smiled, first time in ages. “We’re going to take care of it, Max. Okay? Promise.”

And as Max stared after David, his lower lip trembled against the mug.

Gwen’s favorite camp activity didn’t even involve the kids. But tonight, hugging this little shit to her side while the wind whispered through the empty camp, she kind of had to think that maybe David was right. Maybe all it took was a little reframing of the mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I read this to my sister, and she brought up that Mandatory Reporters are a thing. Duh. I'd totally forgotten. XD Camp counselors are included under that in 13 states, including Oregon. So in my mind, for this fic, that's where Camp Campbell is located.
> 
> I was going to write something happier, but I found out my friend came home to find her cat covered in blood, convulsing. Poor thing passed away shortly after. I'm absolutely devastated for her, thinking of how traumatic that must have been. :( So this fic's dedicated to her little black cat, Suki, gone far too soon. RIP, honey.
> 
> \-----------
> 
> EDIT: The *AMAZING* pic at the end is courtesy of JellyBit!! You can find her AO3 account [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyBit/pseuds/JellyBit), and her Deviantart account [here](https://www.deviantart.com/loaf-d)!! I'm in freaking LOVE with this pic. :D :D Thanks, love!! <3


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